


It Never Rains in Southern California

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Blankets, Comfort Food, Domestic Fluff, Fireplaces, M/M, rainy day, “Handyman” Cliff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Rick asks Cliff to fix a roof leak during a break between rainstorms. Turns out maybe Cliff doesn’t know how to do everything but at least he can make some rainy day comfort food.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	It Never Rains in Southern California

**Author's Note:**

> The rain that has been hitting LA the past couple weeks made me do this. And I could really go for some grilled cheese rn... and for Target to finally deliver my collector’s edition already.

Last night was the first heavy rain of the rainy season to hit the Southland and Mother Nature clearly made her mark. You’d think it was the Apocalypse with how the city suddenly transformed from that picturesque postcard to a hellscape of flash floods, mudslides, and everyone suddenly forgetting how to drive. Not to mention that wet asphalt smell was almost nauseating for having gone this long without rain. 

Luckily for Cliff he was able to get the car and all his other stuff outside covered in time and he and Brandy held up during the night to what sounded like being in a very long, heavy shower. By the time morning came and he peeked his head out of his trailer door to check the damage, the whole area was a muddy swamp with more water than land showing in parts. 

“Shit, girl. You’re not gonna like it out there. And I ain’t gonna like cleaning you off, either.” But he knows Brandy can’t hold it forever and tries to think of an alternative method when his phone rings. Only one person would be calling him this early. Actually, only one person would be calling him at all.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Cliff, buddy, c-could I trouble you for a f-favor?”

“Depends. Am I gonna have to cross the moat to get to my car?”

“Huh?”

“Ah, never mind. What do you need?”

“Got a f-fucking leak in my roof. Right above my couch. I was just lying down reading when the fucking storm happened and I-I got smacked right in the fucking face, shit. I put out something to catch the dripping but I-I-I’d like it fixed before the next wave hits us tonight. Any way you can?”

“I’ve never had my own roof to fix in my life, man. I got zero experience in that field. Sure you don’t want a professional to help with that?”

“Not by tonight, no. The whole fucking city must have leaks as well since no one I-I called is available for another week!”

“Fine. I need to take Brandy out anyways if you don’t mind having her. Give me an hour since I gotta figure out how to get my car out.”

“Alright, see you then.”

Cliff hangs up and goes to put on his rubber boots so he can make the muddy trek as well as grabbing a clean pair he can change into after. He carefully walks over to the car, pulls the cover off, and stuffs it in the trunk before unlocking the passenger side for Brandy. The pit bull patiently waited in the doorway of the trailer for her owner to carry her over to avoid the mud. 

“Man, little lady. Maybe I need to cut back on your dinner. Don’t remember you being this heavy.” Magically, he managed to get her to the car without slipping and helps her in. Cliff grabs the other pair of boots from in reach of the doorway, locks up the trailer, and sits in the driver’s seat to change his footwear before slowly driving out of the lot. Once he’s out on the main road, he pulls over to the first patch of grass he sees for Brandy’s pit stop before continuing on his way to Rick’s. 

_”Los Angeles weather!”_

_“Sunny skies this morning with heavy rain later this afternoon continuing into tomorrow, low around 56, high 68, no smog. Now Beaches: 64, Valley: 65, Downtown: 64, Orange County: 66.”_

“Shit, maybe we should have asked Rick if we can stay the night. I doubt we’ll be home in time and you don’t need to be cooped up again in the mud trap.” Cliff gives Brandy some scratches behind the ear as they turn up onto Cielo Drive. The hill showed no sign there was a cascade last night but Cliff had no desire to be caught in one later today. 

Rick was already out in his front yard inspecting any other damage that he might need Cliff to take care of when the Karmann Ghia pulls up. He rarely ever saw the car with the top up so he almost didn’t realize it was Cliff until the passenger door mysteriously opened and the pit bull came running at him full speed.

“Woah, woah, woah, SHIT! CLIFF! Get your damn dog off me!!” Rick was flat on his back in the still damp grass with the dog’s weight on him and tongue licking all over his face. He actually loved Brandy; he just wasn’t a fan of dirt stains on his expensive clothes.

Cliff ‘clicks’ to get Brandy off Rick and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Sorry, man. She’s just excited to stretch her legs some more after not being able to last night. I take it your place took a beating.”

“Yeah, well. Rest of it looks alright other than the one fucking leak. Come on, I’ll show you. It’s above the couch between the doorway and fireplace so it’s actually probably right up here in front of you if you can see anything,” Rick says as he stops them to get a view of the roof above where he knows the couch is. 

“I told ya, man. Never fixed a roof with shingles in my life. I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably a damaged shingle?”

“So why the hell can't you go up and check it if you already know more than I do?”

“Well I-I can’t afford to get injured.”

“Shit, man. This ain’t no stunt. Every man I know can climb a ladder.”

“Fine. I-I’m not c-comfortable with hei-heights.”

“Now see? Was that so hard to admit?” Cliff smiles and clasps his hand on Rick’s shoulder; it seemed for Rick, yes, it was a difficult thing to admit. “You do at least have a ladder, right?”

“Uh. No.”

“Alright. Wait here.” Cliff signals Brandy to stay put with Rick and heads around back through the side gate, leaving Rick to wonder what the hell he was plotting. He was almost tempted to follow him around once it felt too long when suddenly Cliff appears over the top of the roof with a stupid, prideful grin on his face. 

“F-fucking hell, Cliff! How’d the fuck you get up there??”

“Oh, I have my ways. Now direct me to the area I need to be looking at.”

Rick keeps staring at him dumbfounded before shaking his head clear. “Oh, right. Umm, just head down a-and head right. My right, your l-left. Right there. See anything?”

Cliff squints as he looks around trying to find anything off. “Yeah, I think this shingle might be up some. I don’t notice anything else off. You got duct tape or something?”

“I don’t think that’s how they fix roofs, Cliff.”

“Well it’s how I fix everything.”

“Well I don’t want a f-fucking piece of duct tape up on my r-roof. P-probably kill the property value or s-something. I don’t know. Go to the fucking hardware store and ask.”

“Geez, man. Can’t expect me to know how to do everything.” Cliff climbs back over the top of the roof and returns to the front of the house a moment later. “By the way, you mind if Brandy and I stay the night? Don’t want to get caught in the rain on the way back.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Least I can do for you helping me on such fucking short notice. I-I’ll leave the front door open so you can come on through there when you get back.”

“Alright. Be a good girl for Rick, Brandy. I’ll grab you some cans on the way back then.” Cliff waits until Rick gets her inside before driving off. He realized once he got out of the canyon he probably should of asked where the closest hardware store was since he usually just picked up stuff from the place near him when he actually knew how to fix the project before coming over. But how hard is it to fix a damn shingle anyways?

Like any self respecting man of the time, he didn’t bother to ask any of the employees for help. Once he found the aisle with the roof repair he began heavily considering just getting the duct tape. Buying a tub of roofing cement or a caulk gun plus the tube seemed a little excessive for one measly shingle that just needed to be reglued. Plus he could hear Rick now: _”All that for one measly shingle that just needs to be reglued? What a waste of money!”_ Yup. See. Rick was thinking the exact same thing. Also the fact it probably wouldn’t dry by the time the rain hit, anyways, so that’s another reason why it would also be a waste. After another moment with his internal debate, he settles on buying some Aleene’s Tacky Glue and hopes it can at least hold up for the time being.

Luckily for Cliff, there was a grocery store in the same lot. He can’t find his brand of Wolf’s Tooth and again finds himself settling on something cheaper this errand run; hopefully Brandy won’t notice the difference. Cliff also didn’t ask if Rick needed anything while he’s at the store so he decides to stock up on stuff to make what his diet of a five year old prefers to have when it’s raining: grilled cheese, tomato soup, and hot chocolate. Surely Rick would have no objects, especially since it’s a hard meal to screw up other than burning it.

After being out for about an hour, Cliff comes home to find Brandy asleep on the couch she usually occupies when she’s over, which also happened to be the victim of last night’s leakage. There was still a pot on the far side which was halfway full of water and Cliff looked up to see the wet stain on the ceiling. Hopefully Rick gets an actual professional to fix that once the storm passes. And where was Rick, anyways? He drops the groceries on the kitchen counter and pockets the tacky glue before stepping out back and sees Rick floating out in the pool.

“Fuck, man. Isn’t it a bit cold to be in the water.”

“I ain’t in the water, I’m floating. Besides, it’s bright and sunny at the moment, might as well enjoy it.”

Well, when Cliff was out, he knew that wasn’t quite the case for much longer. He saw the storm clouds forming and it was in one of those huge masses that you knew was bringing a major downpour. Now from Rick’s view, he wasn’t going to see that mass until it was probably too late as it was approaching from the opposite side of the house. But why ruin the surprise? 

“Alright then, have fun.” Cliff heads back out front to get his rubber boots out of his car and covers it up for the day. He heads inside and locks up the front door before going to grab a couple towels from the bathroom to leave by the sliding door for when the inevitable happens. Cursing to himself that he forgot to bring extra clothes, he slips his jacket and shirt off so he at least has something dry still and changes his boots before going back out.

“Ya know, you ask me to do everything but you’ve yet to ask me to be your pool boy. How come?”

“Got a professional for that.”

“Yeah, because I’m clearly a roofing professional. How come I never see him?”

“Because he only comes when you’re not around.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Goddamnit, Cliff. Get your ass on the roof already for fuck’s sakes. Jesus.”

Cliff just laughs to himself before excitedly pointing out something behind Rick. “Woah, man. Is that a hawk flying by over there.”

“Huh, where?” Rick turns around craning his neck in every which way trying to find what the hell Cliff could be talking about. “I don’t see anything, shit. Where the hell are you pointing at- ah, fuck you, Cliff!” He hears Cliff giggling like an idiot as he disappears over the top of the roof, realizing Cliff was just trying to distract him from seeing how he got up on there. Fucking asshole.

Once Cliff finds the shingle in question again, he lifts it up a little bit further and starts applying a generous amount of glue and presses it down, smearing away any that squeezes out from underneath. He stands there and holds it down with his foot for a few minutes hoping that helps it take as he looks out at the storm fast approaching. By his estimate, he had maybe another ten, fifteen minutes tops. When he sees the shadow creeping up Cielo, he lifts his boot and is relieved to see the shingle is at least holding in place for the time being and begins making his way back over the top of the house.

Now he would have just jumped right off even if Rick was watching since getting off the roof was far less magically than getting on, but the snores coming from the floating chair made Cliff decide to sit down at the edge and watch the literal shit storm that was about to happen. It only took a minute for the shadow to roll over him and engulf the entire backyard as the small light rain drops only lasted seconds before the heavy ones started smacking down on his back. Cliff tried not to laugh too hard as he watched Rick jolt awake in panic yet surprisingly didn’t fall off into the pool. 

“CLIFF!!” Rick had almost curled into an upright fetal position, arms covering his head thinking it would help shield him. 

“Hey man, I’m not a lifeguard!” But Rick could barely make out what Cliff was saying as the roar of the water kept crashing down onto him, and Cliff couldn’t watch the pathetic display much longer without feeling some guilt that he didn’t warn him. He jumps onto a nearby bush and rolls off it onto the patio, kicks off his boots, socks, and pants so the water doesn’t weigh him down and tosses them in the house before hopping in pool on his rescue mission. 

“Hey, hey, don’t grab me. I’m just gonna get you to the edge and you can get off, alright?” Cliff pushes Rick back into the chair as Rick’s natural instinct was to grab onto his savior. Once he gets him close enough, he lifts the side of the chair to dump Rick out onto the concrete, leaving the other man lying there in the puddle forming around him thanks to the rain and possibly his tears from the hysterical crying he was doing. Cliff was amazed how much something as simple as water could ruin Rick’s day like this. 

“Come on. Up you go.” Cliff grabs Rick’s limp arms and pulls him up like a rag doll until he’s got him standing as upright as he can with the rain beating down as hard as it was. It finally occurs to Rick he’s alive and out of the pool and lets out a happy cry as he clings to Cliff. 

“Fuck, man. I-I thought I was a goner there, shit. The d-downpour was so sudden,” Rick shouts at him so he can be heard.

“So. Gotta ask. Do you know how to swim?” Cliff shouts back just as equally.

“C-come on. Let’s get the f-fuck out of this rain.” 

Ah, avoiding the question. That’s good enough of an answer for Cliff.

It was a good thing Cliff had towels waiting for them when they stepped inside and the cold suddenly hit harder now that they were out of the storm. Cliff tosses one to Rick and advises him to take off his wet clothes before drying off.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize you rescued me like… like that.”

“Yeah, well, wet denim would weigh me down, and I couldn’t count on your ass being completely cooperative without drowning me.” Cliff casually takes his wet briefs off and wrings them out under the small bit of roof just outside the door. He doesn’t fail to notice that by the time he turns back around, Rick was facing the opposite direction, drying himself with an urgency in his still wet clothes. “Hey, man. I said take your clothes off. No point in drying something that soaked.”

“I-I-I’m gonna shower. Need a-a long, long h-h-hot one.” Rick doesn’t look at him as he hastily starts heading towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, alright, but you still need to give me your clothes so I can wring them out and dry them,” Cliff says, his voice steadily getting louder each step Rick takes until he hears the door slam shut. He puts his hands on his hips, obliviously standing there in all his glory. “Goddamnit, girl. What the hell did I do wrong?” he asks Brandy, whose head perked up at the sound of the door. She just stares at him until Cliff finally looks down at himself. “Oh. Wait. Guess he’s not all that comfortable with nudity. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t do romantic films.”

His jeans and briefs were still too wet for his liking so Cliff just ties the towel around his waist and puts his shirt back on, calling it a day. Cliff wasn’t sure how long Rick’s ‘long’ shower was going to last so he decides to get the fireplace going without him. When he thinks he’s got a big enough flame, he gets his clothes and lays them out in front to dry them. He’s fully anticipating Rick’s complaint about his underwear being out like that which, he admits, drives him to do this.

The shower was still running so Cliff snoops in Rick’s room for some extra blankets he might have stored away. He finds a couple in the closet and brings those out and grabs the extra one on the bed. Now Rick had a pile waiting for him on one of the solo chairs if he wanted to curl up in them, but that’s only because Cliff was under the assumption Rick was a blanket snuggler kind of guy; he could totally miss the mark on that.

“Alright, darling. Let’s get you fed.” Cliff motions her to stay where he is as he grabs the pot next to her that collected rain water and goes to dump it in the sink. He pulls out the dog food cans, forgetting he had to get a different brand this time. “Ah, don’t kill me, man. But they didn’t have the good shit. Gonna have to settle for whatever is in here.”

Brandy still ate the junk up without hesitation, just like Cliff was about to with processed cheese and canned soup. He dumps two cans of Campbell’s in a pot and gets that cooking as he starts slicing enough Velveeta for at least six sandwiches. While he might not be the best cook, he could at least make a mean grilled cheese, and he was quite proud that he managed to get them all to a nice golden brown without any of them turning black.

Rick finally came out in a thicker bathrobe than usual when Cliff was getting the last couple out of the frying pan. He sniffs the air straight to the kitchen and was shocked to see half of loaf’s worth of sandwiches stacked high on a plate. “The fuck? How many fucking s-sandwiches are you planing to eat??”

“Whatever number left over from what you’re taking. I love this shit, man. Especially when it’s raining. It’ll warm you right up. Want some soup to go with it?”

“That’s also a lot of fucking soup.”

“Let me have this, it hardly ever rains here.”

“Fine, fine,” Rick mumbles as he goes and sits at the tiny table against the wall and crosses his legs and arms as he watches Cliff work. “Are you wearing anything under that towel?”

“Nope.”

“Do you need to borrow some?”

“I’m amazed you asked but nope. Got mine drying over there, hopefully not much longer.” Cliff gestures over to the fireplace and holds back a laugh at Rick’s visibly disgusted look but gets no comment. “But yeah, got the fire going and some blankets you can bury yourself in after lunch.”

Rick snorts but still doesn’t comment. Maybe Cliff was wrong about the blanket thing.

Cliff gives them both two generous bowls of tomato soup and puts the sandwich pile in the middle of the table, completely crowding the surface. “Ah, shit. I forgot to make the hot chocolate. Ah well, I’ll do that after.”

“How the fuck do you look like you do on this diet? The hell is your secret?”

“Oh, you like what you saw, huh?” Cliff grins as he watches Rick turn red and quickly grab a sandwich to avoid answering that.

“I’m shocked these aren’t burnt.”

“Well I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“And…” Rick tears off a piece and eats. “Not bad.”

“Kinda hard not to screw up grilled cheese besides burning it.” Cliff takes his own sandwich and dunks it in the soup, groaning at how good it tastes after he takes a bite. “I swear, man. I could live on this combo if I had to. So good.”

Rick follows suit in dipping his sandwich in the soup but eats it a lot more carefully and a lot less loudly than Cliff was. By the time he was finished with his first, Cliff was already on his third. “I’ll just take one more, you can have the last one.”

And he still wasn’t done with the second one by the time Cliff finished the rest and polished off his bowl, puncturing his accomplishment with a rather loud belch. “Fucking animal.”

“Hey, never know when it might be your last meal. Can’t pass up on the simple pleasures in life.” Cliff takes his bowl and plate and goes to add them to the dish pile he needs to get done. “You can leave your stuff when you’re done, I’ll take care of it.”

Rick knows Cliff gave him permission to, but he felt as a small thanks for all he’s done he should bring his dirty dishes over. “Hey I, uh, I-I can d-dry.”

“Well, look at you. Look at us. I don’t think I ever felt this domestic even when I was married.” Cliff tosses Rick a dish towel before Rick can retract his offer and starts handing him dishes to dry. Once he’s done washing, he starts putting away what Rick finishes drying and wipes down the counters. “I think we’re good. You can go out and sit by the fire while I boil water. Check my underwear while you’re out there.”

“I-I am not t-touching them,” Rick grumbles but gives them a quick glance as he picks up the blankets off the seat. “Looks dry enough. Fucking put them on already.” He makes himself at home on the unoccupied couch since Brandy decided to pass out closer to the fireplace, and proceeds to wrap himself in a nest of the blankets so just his head is showing. 

“Ahh, I was right. You are a blanket snuggler.” Cliff grins as he drops his towel and puts his briefs back on but leaves it at that as the denim was still too wet. 

“Well it’s cold and rainy and-“ Rick shuts his eyes as his tone increases more in annoyance, “a-and anyone would feel like snuggling in these weather conditions.”

“And we can do just that after the whistle blows… and there it is.” The kettle’s piercing cry drew Cliff back into the kitchen and returned a couple minutes later with two large mugs of hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows. “Here ya go.”

“Why thank you.” Rick slips a hand out to grab his mug and takes a couple slow sips as Cliff just stands there still as a statue with his own cup. “What?”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah. You’re in you fucking uh-underw-wear.”

“So?”

Rick didn’t have an answer for that. Instead he grumbles and concedes by opening up some of the blankets for him. Cliff takes a sip from his mug so the liquid line is low enough to not spill as he sits down right up against him and wraps his half of the blankets around them. “Well this is nice.”

“Your legs are f-fucking freezing!”

“They’ll warm up. I didn’t have the luxury of a long hot shower like you did.”

Rick keeps sipping away at his drink as Cliff was eventually right, it did warm up in there. Almost too warm. “Looks like you manage to patch it up. The leak, I mean.”

“Hmm? Oh, right. Thank goodness.”

“What did you use?”

Now it was Cliff’s turn to change the subject as he quickly downs the rest his drink despite it being a tad too hot still and places it on the table. “Hey now, why don’t you put your mug down so we can cuddle a bit,” he says as he takes his drink and puts it down on the table next to his before pulling Rick fully on top of him. “Ah, much better. All warmed up now, are we?”

Rick wasn’t even gonna act like he didn’t enjoy this despite his complaint that Cliff was still just in his briefs. “Yeah… this is nice. Very nice, actually.”

“Just rest, man. I got you.” Cliff keeps the blankets tight around the both of them as he embraces him around his torso underneath them all. The soundtrack of the rain beating down and dying fire were soon joined by Brandy’s and then eventually Rick’s snoring. As for Cliff, he was trying to stay awake to enjoy all this just a little bit longer. But his eyes grew heavy, his mind not really registering much anymore. He thought maybe he heard a ‘plop’ and saw Rick stir a bit, but he could have imagined it the first time. Second time. Third time.

“CLIFF! What the hell did you use on the roof?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Took the title from the song of the same name by Albert Hammond. Reading the lyrics kinda gives me Rick vibes as well but nothing to do with this story.


End file.
